


Maybe, this time

by thewesterndoor



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Beach, Anachronistic, Drunk Dancing, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Fluff, Katsuki Yuuri just can't catch a break, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Pining Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov is Extra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-05-21 13:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14916542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewesterndoor/pseuds/thewesterndoor
Summary: All Yuuri wanted to do was spend his summer wallowing in his bedroom, listening to sad songs and dreaming of the dreamy Viktor Nikiforov, but after he’s dragged to the beach by his best friend for mandatory surf and sand, a near-drowning experience sets him on a different path.The Gidget/Beach Party AU that nobody was looking for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those that are interested, the songs that I was thinking of in the final section are
> 
> Duke of Earl (Gene Chandler)  
> Do You Love Me? (The Contours)  
> Keep On Dancing (The Gentrys)  
> Maybe (The Chantels)
> 
> Title is meant to be a reference to the Chantels’ song, but the Cabaret one is weirdly fitting. 
> 
> Planned this as a one shot, but if there's any interest I have definitely considered how the story would continue (I might have spent an absurd amount of time thinking through Beach! version of all the characters).
> 
> Lots and lots of credit are due to my super patient beta readers!

“You can’t sit in your room listening to your Roy Orbison records all summer.”

Pushing his glasses up from where they had slid down the bridge of his nose, Yuuri fixed a stern expression on his face.

“And what is the problem with that, Phichit?” Yuuri asked with a sigh.

His friend sat back on his heels, knees digging into the beach towel spread out under him, and waved one lean, tanned arm towards the surrounding area.

“Yuuri, it’s the  _ summer _ .  I’m pretty sure it’s not healthy to just sit in the dark listening to  _ Only the Lonely  _ endlessly.  Besides, you’re going to wear it out.”

Phichit might have had a cheeky grin across his face as he spoke, but Yuuri could make out signs of genuine concern in his dark eyes.  With a sigh, Yuuri shoved a hand through his hair to push it off his face, grimacing a bit as he caught sight of his own pasty skin. 

“I listen to  _ In Dreams _ sometimes too,” Yuuri grumbled, though he knew that he had already lost.  He had in fact lost the argument that morning when Phichit had arrived at Yuuri’s parents’ inn, forcing him out to the waiting car.

“That does not make it better.  Who wants that mopey stuff? At least I can guarantee that you’re going to have to listen to some happening stuff tonight at the luau.”

Flopping back onto the towel, Yuuri draped an arm over his head, trying to block out the warm summer sunshine and his friend’s pathological enthusiasm.

“You said nothing about a luau.”  Yuuri knew he was whining. He also knew it was unattractive, but he didn’t care.

He’d been home from college all of one day, and truth be told all he’d wanted to do was sit in his room--preferably with the shades drawn-- and just listen to  _ Only the Lonely _ until the 45 was unplayable.  After a year of mooning after the dreamiest Senior all term, never able to work up the courage to speak to the gorgeous, flaxen-haired man, and with the prospect of an entire summer without even the occasional glimpses he’d come to treasure, Yuuri had felt that moping was in order.  Phichit clearly felt otherwise.

“Of course there’s a luau!” Phichit said with a roll of his eyes.  “With all you college kids back we finally have someone to buy us beer!”

“And so we’re just going to…to what…sit here all day and wait for the party to start?”

Yuuri lifted his right wrist to glance at the watch there.  It was only gone eleven; even if the party started at five—unlikely knowing Phichit—it was going to be  _ hours _ that he was here.   _ What did people even do at the beach for that long? _

That thought was immediately followed by the realization that Yuuri was in fact the most hopeless sort of square.  No wonder he’d never had a chance of catching Viktor’s eye. He was sure that Viktor probably  _ lived _ at the beach during the summer.  Suddenly Yuuri’s thoughts were filled with the too tantalizing image of tall, lean Viktor in a bathing suit, his chest and legs on display, and his hair even whiter from the sun.

Yuuri couldn’t help the groan that shook free from his chest.  He definitely needed to be alone in his room, listening to music that would echo back his own heartache.

But maybe…maybe, this time with Phichit, throwing himself into something was just what he needed.

Slowly he pushed himself up.

“Okay, so what is it that we’re supposed to do?”

Phichit practically shivered in excitement, and his eyes seemed to flash.

“ _ Surfing.” _

 

***

 

Between the perfect glassy swells rising in front of him, the smell of surf wax, and the bright caress of sunshine on his bare shoulders, Viktor knew that he should have absolutely no cares.  He’d finally been able to shrug off the stress of school, at least until the fall when he was supposed to return to start his law degree. Now was supposed to be a time for Viktor to run wild with the summer, to live with no cares beyond whether the waves were good enough for surfing and if he had enough beer in the ice chest.

But something didn’t feel quite right.  With some horror, Viktor wondered if this was what growing up was, just all of the things he loved ebbing away until all he was left with was the drag of everyday life. 

A spray of sand as a pair of feet slid next to Viktor was all the warning he got before his best friend was beside him.

“Hey Viktor, you heading out there?” 

Viktor smiled up at the tanned man.

“Could you have found a smaller pair of shorts, Chris?” Viktor asked.

Chris glanced down at the shorts in question before looking back up, his expression of innocence ruined by the smirk lighting up his face and giving him a puckish look.  Tossing his hair, bleached by a combination of sunshine and peroxide, Chris raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you mean.  You’re just behind the trend—it’s all about this now.”

Eyeing his friend’s trunks, Viktor couldn’t say whether the high-waisted shorts with an almost miniscule in-seam were in fashion, but he was sure that Chris was definitely going to break some hearts.

“We get you into something like this,” Chris drawled, giving Viktor a shove, “maybe you wouldn’t be on your own so damn much.”

_ Was that it? _ Viktor wondered absently. C _ ould all of these feelings just be that he was  _ lonely _?  _

Pensively, he turned his attention back to the waves, and resumed the familiar motions of getting his board ready when all of a sudden something caught his attention. His hand stilled as he tried to catch sight of something, some shape that seemed to emerge and disappear in the water.

Before he’d even had a chance to fully process  what he was seeing, his body was already in motion.  He sprinted across the sand until he was deep enough in the water that he could dive forward, arms cutting through the waves, solely focussed on where he’d last seen the shape disappear.   _ The person disappear. _

As he swam, he just hoped that luck was on his--and the swimmer’s--side.

 

***

 

The world had become an endless cycle of blue and shadows, of water stinging his eyes and filling his nose, of sand and rocks slamming against him, and of the desperate urge to breathe.

_ I’m going to die.  I’m going to die. I am going to die. _

The worst of it, Yuuri decided as he felt his legs and arms start to go heavy, his head buzzing, and chest about to explode, was that he was going to die a virgin.  At the age of nineteen, Yuuri had barely lived, and now he was about to die.

Mercifully, at least, he didn’t have visions of his own life--tedious and anxiety filled--scrolling past his eyes; instead he could see Viktor Nikiforov, like some beautiful angel about to take him away.

_ If I come back as a ghost, _ Yuuri decided as black spots started to appear in front of the elegant angles and drifting hair, silvery in the underwater world,  _ I’m coming back to haunt Phichit.  It’s what the bastard deserves for forcing me to try surfing. _

And then there was just the feeling of being tugged as his mind wandered off, followed by the taste of brine in his mouth.

When his head broke through the surface, his lungs trying to cough up the seawater he’d inhaled, it took him a moment to realize what had happened.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” a voice said against his ear, making Yuuri suddenly aware that his back was being held tight against a strongly muscled chest, an arm like a band holding him close, hand curved around to cradle his face, holding him up enough that he could breathe.

Yuuri could do little more than just try to breathe and allow himself to be towed in.  When they finally reached the shallows, those same strong arms and gentle hands helped to push him to his feet.  Yuuri stood for a moment on shaky limbs, wondering whether he wanted to collapse or throw up. He wasn’t ruling out both, though it would probably be best if he at least got onto dry land.

_ Maybe _ , he decided viciously, _ he would be able to make it as far as Phichit. _  Right now Yuuri was certain that his best friend deserved to be the one holding his hair as Yuuri puked up all of the fear and seawater.

Behind him, he heard the sound of movement, and he could feel the hovering presence of his rescuer.  Yuuri turned, thanks ready on his lips, only to find himself incapable of getting more than a miserable splutter out.

Before him, all sleek muscles, was in fact the angel of the watery depths himself, Viktor Nikiforov, concerned eyes narrowed on Yuuri.

_ Viktor had just saved him. _

Yuuri couldn’t help but wish that he had actually drowned.  Anything was better than Viktor seeing him now, like this.

Because Yuuri’s body apparently felt like the indignity of near-death was not enough in front of his crush, it chose that moment for him to empty the contents of his stomach.

 

***

 

From his spot on the sand, Viktor could feel the heat of the bonfire warring with the cool night air.  For what was surely the hundredth time since everybody had reconvened at sundown to light the fires and start the party, Viktor glanced around.  Searching. Ever since the boy he’d fished out of the water had run off, a blush highlighting the beautiful curves of his cheekbones, Viktor had been desperately hoping to see him again.

_ Of course he won’t be here _ , Viktor chided himself as he scanned the crush of bodies that were dancing to a Gene Chandler song.   _ Who wouldn’t just go home after nearly drowning? _

But he still couldn’t help but look for that dark, messy hair, the warm brown eyes, and the slender soft figure.

Raising the bottle clutched loosely in his hand up to his lips, he took a swig of beer, quickly draining what was left.  He rose up, trying to figure out where the ice chest had gone. Viktor had promised everyone in the gang that he would stay and supervise Chris, trying to make sure his friend didn’t get too crazy—there was at least one drive-in where they were all banned thanks to Chris—and if he was going to make it through the night, he would definitely need another drink.

Eyes lighting on the large tub that some enterprising soul had filled with bags of ice, bottles poking up, Viktor quickly started threading his way between the couples.  At least the song was steady and slow, allowing couples to drape themselves around each other and Viktor an easy path to the booze. He snagged a fresh bottle, using the edge of the tub to pry the cap free and then tossing the cap back into the tub.

The final harmonies of the song trailed off, followed by a brief pause as whoever was captaining the portable record player switched out the 45, and then Viktor was hearing the rising harmonies of something a little faster and a lot more wild.  All of a sudden those same couples who had been dancing languorously were all shimmies and grinding hips.

From the far side of the crowd, Viktor could see a shift in the crowd.  The couples were moving out of the way to make room for a pair to show off.  Viktor was pretty sure he knew who at least one of the dancers was. Lifting up his drink he wondered if he should be wading through the sea of hormones and shifting bodies to grab Chris.  

As the crowd moved about, Viktor was finally able to catch a glimpse of the couple.  Chris was, as expected, dancing, the fire lighting up the curves of his muscled back and shoulders, but it was when Viktor recognized Chris’s partner that he nearly choked on his beer.

It was the mystery man from that afternoon.  But gone was the look of desperate misery and the general aura of sweetness that had made Viktor long to bundle him off somewhere.  Instead, the man’s hair had been shoved back from his face, less a hairstyle and more the impression of fingers raking through the inky locks, and confidence seemed to drip off the lines of his body.  Like Chris, the man was stripped down to just swim trunks. They weren’t as tiny as the ones worn by his friend, but they left an awful lot of gleaming skin on display.

Viktor felt his breath catch in his chest as he watched the dancing.  Chris had an arm draped loosely around the other man’s waist, and there was almost no space between their  hips. Arms rising up over his head, the man undulated against Chris, only to spin around, the two swaying forward and backwards in time to the music.

_ Mine _ .

It was a primal cry that echoed up from the very bottom of his being as he saw the broad smile and easy laughter on the man’s face as he ground against Chris.  A shiver shook through Viktor and he was caught between the urgent need to go forward--to pull the man against him, to have those arms wrapped around his own neck--and the need to just stand there watching, unable to take his eyes off the man for a minute.

The song wound down, and Viktor watched with a narrow-eyed gaze as the crowd surged around the pair, threatening to block his view.

“ _ Yuuri _ !” someone called out, and Viktor watched as the man’s head jerked in the direction of the name.  But the man— _ Yuuri _ —seemed inclined to ignore whoever had been trying to get his attention, his gaze searching through the crowd.  It didn’t stop until he was staring straight at Viktor.

Everything in Viktor simultaneously melted and caught fire as those brown eyes locked onto his own and Yuuri sauntered through the crowd towards him.  It was only when Yuuri was before him, hand outstretched, that Viktor even realized another song had started.

This one still had a fast beat, though Viktor was a little sad that it didn’t have the same edge of hunger as the last one.  He wanted to know what it would feel like to have those hips moving against his, to have no space between them. 

Viktor was pulled forward.  He felt the beer bottle slide free of his fingers, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care, couldn’t be bothered to glance down, his attention consumed by the way Yuuri had dropped into the twist, his hips and shoulders moving.  This close, Viktor could see the shift and flex of muscle, and how Yuuri’s pupils were blown wide, and the beads of sweat that traced the lines of his body. Yuuri smiled hungrily, tugging Viktor closer.

All too soon the song had ended, leaving Viktor panting and ready to pay anything to stay this close to Yuuri.

He tried to think of what he could say that might keep this bright star with him just a little longer, but Viktor—debate champion, class president, and future law student—found any grasp of words he’d possessed gone.  The only thought he seemed to be capable of was just a single word on a continuous loop. 

_ Mine. _

Yuuri’s chest was heaving, but he didn’t seem inclined to move.  Instead, as the next song started, its steady piano and rising harmonies signalling a slower song—the Chantels, Viktor realized—Yuuri’s arms twined around Viktor’s neck.  With a soft groan, Viktor stepped into the embrace, his own arms going around Yuuri’s waist as he reveled at the press of flesh against flesh. Yuuri smelled like sunblock and beer, and Viktor could hear his soft sigh as Yuuri pressed his hair against Viktor’s shoulder.

When he felt the whisper of lips against his neck, Viktor wondered somewhat desperately how he could make it so that this never ended.  This would be his life now. He would stay on the beach with his arms around this beautiful man. Of course, he would still have to think up  _ something _ to say.

The final chord wavered out into the night and Viktor could feel those lips teasing their way up towards Viktor’s ear.

“Teach me to surf, Viktor,” Yuuri whispered, before--for the second time that day--he was throwing up at Viktor’s feet.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it seems like this is going from a one-shot to a full(er) fic. I have a couple more chapters planned out and I'll have to see if it goes beyond that.
> 
> Thanks for reading/commenting/leaving kudos! And thanks to nekoshka for beta-reading this.

"He...he still hasn't called me," Viktor sniffled from his spot on the bed.

There was an awkward pat on his shoulder before the mattress shifted as Chris sat down beside him.

"What exactly is going on?"

Viktor tilted his face up from where it was pressed into the pillow to glare at his friend.

"Yuuri still hasn't called. And he never came back to the beach.  Half the summer is gone and..."

Chris leaned back, a knowing look appearing in his eyes.

"And that's why you're sitting in the dark listening to  _ Story Untold _ ?" Chris said.

"It just really speaks to me."

"In the dark?" pressed Chris, one eyebrow raising.

Viktor decided that now was a fine time to just ignore his friend; he certainly hadn't been invited over.  If Chris couldn't appreciate a quality pity party then he could just buzz off.

A scratching noise jolted through the room as the record finished. Viktor didn't even need to look at the record player as he reached out to move the arm and start the record again.  He may have done this a lot over the last few days.

Doowop harmonies started to soar, followed by familiar lyrics.

_...well, here in my heart there's a story untold... _

"So all of...this..." Chris gestured around the dark and messy room as he spoke "is because that boy from the luau hasn't come after you?"

Just the memory of that bright night was enough for Viktor's chest to tighten, tears prickling  at his eyes. After their dance, Viktor had helped Yuuri to his ride, and that had been the last he’d seen of him.  For the next few days, Viktor had expected to see Yuuri at the beach--he had planned out whole scenarios for what he’d say when that happened--but those days had turned into weeks with no sign of the beautiful and enigmatic Yuuri.

"He's not just some boy, he was..."

Viktor couldn't even imagine the words to describe Yuuri--to describe what that night had meant to him.  For the first time in forever, Viktor had felt something beyond the choking need to do well, to stay on the path to fame and success. But it appeared that it had been purely one-sided.

"You know that you could just go see him?"

Pulling his head up from the pillow, Viktor turned to look at Chris.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

Chris shrugged his shoulders, flinging his hands up. " _ What do I mean? _ I mean that if that boy means so damn much, you could go to his parents' diner and try  _ telling _ him that."

It was as if Viktor's heart stopped, frozen with the possibility of hope.  He shoved the blanket off and pulled himself up until he was sitting cross-legged, his gaze boring into Chris.

His friend smiled his usual knowing look, raking a hand through his bleached hair.

"That got your attention, huh?" Chris laughed.

"You know who he is.  You know where I can find him?" Viktor couldn't even pretend to be indifferent, not when his whole body was shaking and his heart was in his mouth.

"I suggest you might want to calm down a bit--rumour has it that Katsuki spooks easily--but yeah, I know who he is.  After you started turning the surf shack into your own pity palace I started to ask around."

Viktor surged to his feet.  He seized on the first pair of pants that he saw piled on the floor, but quickly tossed them back down in panic.  He couldn't show up in rumpled pants. With increasing desperation he scoured his room for something to wear. Did he have anything that was clean?

"What am I going to do, Chris? I--"

His best friend reached over, placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

"You're going to calm down.  And start with a shower."

Nodding furiously, Viktor raced off to the bathroom.  As he rushed through his shower, Viktor's thoughts were firmly fixed on one goal: finding a way to make Yuuri his.

  
  


* * *

The day after the luau, with a headache threatening to split his head in two and his muscles feeling limp, Yuuri had decided the lesson was to never do anything that Phichit suggested again.  If he'd just stayed home, it all would have been fine.

Nothing bad happened to people who stayed in their rooms listening to Roy Orbison.

Weeks later, all he could do was try to find a way to soldier through the rest of the summer and then hope that he would never have to run into Viktor on campus once he went back in September.

_ Is it too late to switch schools? _

"YUURI!"

Yuuri looked up from his desk and the glossy surf magazine in front of him.  Despite his disastrous surfing attempt, he still hadn't been willing to return the magazine to Phichit.  When his friend had teased him about it, Yuuri had protested that he just liked the photographs they were able to get of the waves--the scale of the tiny people against the monstrous swells.  But that was a lie, and they both knew it. He was constantly leafing through the magazine because it reminded him of Viktor. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make the ache in his chest a little more bearable.

"I need to take my break, can you come help? Or is the college boy to busy for that?" Mari teased.

Flushing at his sister's words, Yuuri hurried after her.

The summer was supposed to be a time for helping out with the family business.  His parents asked so little of him that it was the least he could do--particularly after all the saving they'd done to send him to college.  But even with this, Yuuri was a letdown.

"Is there something happening today?" Yuuri asked as they neared the entrance to the  restaurant.

Mari just shrugged her slim shoulders.  Reaching into the pocket of her apron, she pulled out a package of cigarettes, then jerked her head towards the backdoor.

"Who knows with you college kids.  I'll be outside if you need anything."

Yuuri stared after his sister, puzzling over her words.

"College kids?" he asked after her retreating back.  His family's inn, and the attached restaurant, might have been a nice place but it wasn't the sort of happening spot that the kids home for summer would frequent.

"Yeah. Some handsome surfer type."

A chill swept through Yuuri's whole body, leaving him dizzy and shaking.

_ It couldn't possibly be...not after all of the years of dreaming this would happen...the universe wouldn't be so cruel... _

Scrambling through the door to the restaurant, Yuuri's gaze swept across the room.  He froze. In that moment Yuuri was nothing more than a shell, capable only of taking in the fact that Viktor Nikiforov was currently lounging in one of the faded booths of his family's restaurant, drinking a soda like this wasn't some miracle.  Like it wasn't every single one of Yuuri's hopes and fears rolled into one solitary second.

He shut his eyes. The familiar scents of cooking meat surrounded him; the vinyl of the nearest booth back was slick against his suddenly sweaty palms as he was held on for dear life; someone had selected the Chantels on the jukebox, one of those songs that captured the exquisite pain of first love--surely Yuuri's mind wouldn't have been able to come up with a dream  _ this  _ vivid?

When he finally opened his eyes, Viktor was still there.

Across from him sat another guy--someone Yuuri remembered seeing around campus and at the beach.   _ He  _ was the one to notice Yuuri, and a slow cheshire grin spread across his face.  Leaning forward, the man murmured something to Viktor.

Almost instantly Viktor spun around, a smile beaming on his face.

From his spot across the restaurant Viktor called out, "Yuuri, I heard you wanted to take surf lessons!" 

 

* * *

"What did I do wrong?" Viktor whined from the driver's seat of his car.  He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel.

He'd had everything planned out.  It was supposed to be magical. He'd had Chris do a little scouting around to find out a bit more about the Katsuki's inn and restaurant so he could fine-tune every detail.

In his head, he'd pictured himself walking in and waving casually to Yuuri.  They would share a knowing glance, maybe a shy smile. Viktor would go over to the jukebox and make sure that  _ their  _ song was playing, the one they'd danced to under the stars.  Yuuri would come over and probably apologize for not giving Viktor a call--Viktor had even been thoughtful enough to imagine some acceptable excuse for Yuuri that Viktor would be gracious enough to accept. They'd talk about how crazy that night had been, and with increasingly bold looks they'd both confess that was the first time they'd ever felt that way.  

Instead, Viktor and Chris had arrived to find out that Yuuri wasn't even working that day.  But Viktor had persevered. He'd come too far to back down. At least Chris's reconnaissance had been accurate and the jukebox part of the plan could still go forward.  Except they’d had no idea when Yuuri might appear, so Viktor had taken a handful of change over to the machine and queued up the song as many times as he could. It was for love.

But after twenty minutes of listening to the Chantels on a loop and asking the waitress when Yuuri would be working, all he'd managed to do was piss her off and entertain Chris. And when Yuuri had finally appeared, instead of warm brown eyes and a welcoming smile, Viktor had just seen panic.  Every single line of Yuuri's body had been tense, and there was no look of fond recollection as he’d listened to their song.

From that point on it had been an unmitigated disaster.

"I asked to give him surf lessons," Viktor groaned.  

Chris fiddled with the dial of the radio, pausing when they heard the strains of a very familiar song.

_...There’s a story untold, of a girl who left me standing, standing in the cold... _

"Oh hey, it's your song," Chris said with a laugh.

Viktor wanted to die.

"Why?  Why didn't I just ask him out?  Why did I have to mention  _ surfing _ ?"

"Is it really so bad?  That would make a pretty great date.  A good chance to get your arms around each other--not many clothes."

Tightening his fingers around the wheel, Viktor tried to breathe past the tightening pressure in his chest.

"You saw his reaction.  I think the last time he tried surfing was when he nearly drowned.  But it was all I could think of..." his voice trailed off.

A tap drew Viktor's attention to the window.  There before him, eyes wary and hair rumpled, was Yuuri.

Viktor's hand shook as he raced to roll down the window.

"Yuuri, hi," Viktor said, trying to brace himself for what was about to come next.  This had to be the moment where Yuuri called him a stalker and demanded that he get the hell away from him.

Yuuri's gaze was focussed intently on the frame of the window, his teeth worrying at his full lower lip.

"About the surfing?" Yuuri said.

"Yes?!"

Yuuri's eyes snapped up until he was looking directly at Viktor, pink dusting across the bridge of his nose and cheeks.

"I'd really like to take lessons with you."

 

* * *

As Yuuri watched the blue car drive off into the late afternoon, the enormity of what he had done started to register.

_ I'm going to be taking surfing lessons. I'm going to be taking surfing lessons with  _ Viktor _. _

What had he done? When had he become an idiot?

Steps heavy, Yuuri turned and walked back into the restaurant.

"Everything okay?" Mari called out.

She was wiping down a table, but when she glanced up and saw Yuuri's face, she dropped the cloth and turned to give him a look.

"What happened?" she said.  Her jaw was clenched as she glanced out the window.  "Did those college boys say something?"

"What? No. No, it's fine," Yuuri said in a rush.  "Viktor's going to give me surf lessons."

Mari blinked at Yuuri, shaking her head slightly as if she was trying to throw off her confusion.

"Surfing? But didn't you nearly drown the last time? Phichit said you had to be fished out of the ocean."

Yuuri nodded miserably.

"Yeah.  Viktor was the one who saved me.  And I...and I threw up on him."

His sister barked in laughter, quickly followed by a sympathetic look.  She strolled over to him and patted his shoulder.

"Oh, baby brother.  Only you..."

"But what do I do?" Yuuri pleaded.  He just needed some sort of plan--an idea of how he could fix it.

"You either go or don't go."

That felt far too simple for Yuuri.  The possibility of not going--of losing the opportunity to finally spend time with Viktor--was too agonizing to consider, but Yuuri wasn't sure he could face a repeat of his previous humiliation.

Mari rolled her eyes and went back to her work.  After finishing with the table,, she was about to head back to the kitchen when she paused and gave Yuuri a pitying look.

"If you're so determined to go," Mari mused, "and you're worried about being a total failure in front of that dreamboat, why don't you just take a couple of quick lessons with someone else?  You can learn some basics and hope that will be enough that you don't look like a fool."

Yuuri could have cried as he wrapped his sister in a hug.  It was the perfect solution. The thought of the ocean still made Yuuri queasy, but this might be manageable.  He could work out all of his nerves and fear with someone else, and then be ready to enjoy himself with Viktor. He just had to find a way to make sure Viktor wouldn’t find out.

* * *

Glancing around the empty beach, Yuuri tried not to let his attention turn to the waves.  It was bad enough hearing them crash against the sand and feeling the smell of brine catch at the back of his throat, but the sight of them rolling through his peripheral vision was churning up memories of the last time.

_ I'm going to die _ .

Yuuri was going to die simply because Viktor had been nice.  Because that was the only possible reason Viktor had turned up at Yutopia; the only reason Viktor would offer to teach him how to surf.  He'd felt bad for the drowning boy--Yuuri was probably nothing more than a project for Viktor to pass the summer break.

Desperately Yuuri ran back towards the parking lot, sand spraying up behind him.  He'd just jump back in the car and head home to the inn. The teacher that Phichit had found for him wasn't even here yet.  Yuuri could sneak away like he'd never even entertained the crazy possibility of going through with this plan.

This early in the morning, the beach had been empty when Yuuri had arrived, but as he neared the parking lot, his steps slowing, he heard  _ Misirlou _ coming from the hut that squatted near the edge of the sand.

To say it sounded like the song was probably unfair to Dick Dale.  The person was trying admirably to pluck out the notes on their guitar, but it was at a faltering glacial speed.  Passing the shack, Yuuri caught sight of the would-be musician.

A teen was folded around a beat-up guitar.  Blonde hair kept sliding forward into his face, and every so often he would stop to grumble and push it back behind his ears.  After a minute, green eyes glanced up and narrowed on Yuuri.

"Oy, are you Katsuki?" the teen called out.

"Uh, yeah.  I'm Yuuri."

The teen's gaze narrowed and Yuuri thought that he might actually be seeing steam coming off him.

"Let's get this straight now.   _ I'm  _ Yuri, and there's only room for one on the beach."

"Oh," Yuuri said, gaze sliding desperately to his waiting car.

Setting aside his guitar, the teen stood up.  He might have been short--shorter even than Yuuri--but he had the sort of lean, muscled look that Yuuri associated with surfers.

"Well?" the other Yuri asked, a sneer twisting his delicate features.

Yuuri blinked, taking a step back.

"God, you're more hopeless than that idiot said.  Are we going surfing or what?"

" _ You're _ the one Phichit talked to?  I'm supposed to get surfing lessons from you?"

Yuri stomped forward until he was toe to toe with Yuuri, glaring up at him with enough force that Yuuri had to look away.

"I thought so," Yuri snarled.  "Let's go. And if you drown on me, I'm going to kill you."

* * *

The inside of the hut was stifling in the afternoon heat, but it was the only place on the beach dark enough to suit Viktor's mood.  If Viktor hadn't still held out a small hope that today would be the day Yuuri would finally come for his lesson, he would have already retreated back to the comforting dark of his bedroom.  Instead, for the past week, he'd found his hopes crushed further and further as dusk rolled around each day with no sign of Yuuri.

"I don't understand," Viktor sighed.

He was lying in the hammock strung up in one corner, swaying side to side as he stared unseeingly up at the dusty beams of the roof.

"What's not to understand?" Yuri asked from the doorway where he sat with his guitar in his lap.

"Our grand leader is in love," Chris laughed.

Yuri's face twisted in disgust.

"Gross.  I don't want to hear about that.  Talk to someone who cares."

Viktor gave Yuri his best withering stare, but it had absolutely no effect on the brat.  Nothing had any effect on Yuri. He’d just kind of showed up at the beach shack one day and couldn't be shaken.  All the surfers had simply gone along with it, but at that moment Viktor was wondering if they shouldn’t have tried harder--or tried at all.

All Viktor wanted to do was listen to sad songs and drink beer while his dreams of picking up where the luau had left off drifted further and further into the distance.  But the bratty teen had stomped in, demanded that Viktor turn off ‘that mopey shit', and then spent the last forty minutes playing surf rock on his guitar.Poorly.

Sinking further into the hammock, Viktor tried to let its swaying comfort him.

"He said he  _ wanted  _ to learn how to surf.  So why hasn't he come?"

"Maybe he's busy," Chris offered.

"Maybe he realized that you're an idiot," Yuri sneered.

Viktor whimpered.  After his reception at the restaurant, Viktor had assumed that romance was out, but he had thought maybe they could still be friends.  Now, even that was starting to look more and more like a pipe dream.

"Well, if you're going to be this boring I'm going," Yuri declared.  He put his guitar up against the wall and glared at both Viktor and Chris.  "If either of you touch my guitar I'll break your fingers."

A moment later Yuri was gone, leaving the other two staring after him.

"How does he keep up that level of angry?" Viktor said.  "It must be so exhausting."

Chris laughed, pushing himself up to his feet and stretching his arms over his head.

"Oh to be young.  And you're not one to talk--how long is your performance going to go on?  I'm starting to think Georgi should hand over his crown for most ridiculous."

Viktor didn't bother to dignify that with a response.   _ But Georgi _ ? Surely Viktor wasn't  _ that  _ bad.

"Well, it looks like some beach bunnies have moved in on the snack stand and I'm feeling a bit hungry."

Chris's eyes all but twinkled, his smile wolfish.  Viktor almost pitied whoever it was that was in Chris's sights.

"Have fun."

With the others gone, the shack quickly settled back to a comforting quiet.  All Viktor could hear was the breeze drifting through holes in the walls and the creak of the hammock as it rocked.

_ Knock knock _

Viktor glanced over towards the door, wondering what Yuri or Chris might have forgotten.  His throat tightened and his chest lurched when instead, he found himself looking into the hesitant brown eyes of Yuuri Katsuki.

"You're busy," Yuuri said, already starting to back away.

"No! No!"

With a lurch Viktor tried to get out of the hammock, but in his eagerness he’d moved too quickly.  The hammock swung up sharply and Viktor was dumped onto the floor. So much for being smooth...

Viktor scrambled up and hurried over to the doorway before Yuuri could flee.

"I'm glad you came."

Yuuri looked down at the worn boards beneath his feet before finally looking back up to Viktor.  His gaze felt searching, and Viktor was pretty sure that it was some sort of test. When a sweet, shy smile curved across Yuuri's face, Viktor assumed he'd passed--or, he desperately hoped and prayed that he had.

"You ready to surf?" Viktor asked.

Again, there was that smile that made Viktor's insides melt.  He had thought drunk and dancing Yuuri was gorgeous and precious, but this...this was something else.   _ This  _ Yuuri was devastating in a way Viktor could never have anticipated.

"Let's go," Yuuri said.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at thewesterndoor
> 
> For those who are interested in the songs mentioned they are:  
> Story Untold by the Nutmegs  
> Maybe by the Chantels  
> Misirlou by Dick Dale and his Deltones
> 
> If I can track down some good videos on Youtube I'll try to post them on my Tumblr.


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